Blinds
by HopingIsHopeless
Summary: Nathan had forgotten to close the blinds, again.


Nathan had forgotten to close the blinds, again.

The crisp, cold air was flowing aggressively through them, causing a never-ending _flap flap flap_ sound to resonate throughout the room. Despite being smothered in his warm, heavy blankets which were, in the very least, an entire foot away from the window, he could still feel the draft pass as the cold air found its way to his face and decided to hug his nose, causing it to become a slight shade of red. He was never fond of the cold, and at this exact moment he swore he hated it.

He hated it, because at this exact moment, a sleeping Maxine Caulfield had her arms wrapped around his waist, her face buried in his chest. Moving would wake her, waking her would end this moment that he was trying so hard to take mental images of. He was also taking mental notes of all the small things that he would tell her about in the morning which would, as it always does, cause her to blush. He loved noticing small details that others would easily miss. Such as, the way that Max breathes through her mouth when she sleeps, and yet does not snore. Or, perhaps, the way that when she is having a nightmare, her hands will grasp whatever is in front of her and hold it tight until she either wakes up or her unconscious mind drifts to another dream. Quite often Nathan's pajama top was the chosen thing to be twisted into a ball and tugged at by nimble hands.

But these goddamn blinds.

Groggily and slowly, he unhooked one arm from his waist, and then the other, and sat them carefully down. Max murmured in her sleep, one hand effortlessly reaching out for a split second before she uncurled from her left-facing fetus position and then tossed to the opposing side of the bed, then went still. Nathan sighed, sliding down the blanket slightly with his feet, then proceeded to lazily slide his legs to the side of the bed and stand. He really, really did not want to get up, but if he didn't close the blinds he knew his father would bitch about how expensive the heating bill was, despite the price never increasing more than thirty bucks. His father was a fuckin' millionaire, but of course thirty extra dollars towards comfort was passing so many lines. Just thinking about his father caused Nathan to be filled with sudden irritation and rage, but he then shook it off. He promised Max that he wouldn't internalize things, and if he began to get upset about his father, he would slowly sink back down into not speaking up. He trailed his mind back to what mattered, the blinds.

He walked slowly across the creaky wooden boards, hoping that he wouldn't step on "squeaky", as Max called it, a singular board in particular that when stepped on, no matter how little the weight, will squeak loudly like a mouse. Luckily, he narrowly avoided squeaky. He quickly pushed back the curtains that flapped beside the windows, grabbing the small, plastic handle on the piece of string that opened and closed the blinds. Before closing it all the way, he decided to take a glance outside.

The moon was full and bright, shining it's white light down into the rest of Arcadia Bay. Nathan's house sat upon a hill, and was far from the direction of the moon's light. He sort of wished that his house would sometimes be draped in moonlight, for aesthetic purposes. The stars all seemed to clump together in clusters tonight, and he couldn't find a singular star, one without other starry companions. He took that metaphorically. He had been alone for so long, abused by everyone who he ever truly trusted, aside from his mother and sister. That was a long time ago, though, and now he had Max. His starry companion.

Although the view was indeed nice, the air was still cold and bitter. He closed the blinds the rest of the way and covered them with the curtains. He smiled, the nighttime view always seemed to be his calling and had calmed his mood. As he turned towards the bed, he stopped. Max was awake now as well, sitting up and smiling a small smile towards Nathan. "Morning." She said, her eyes glancing at the window and then back at Nathan. "Is it pretty tonight?"

Nathan walked back to the bed, this time stepping on "squeaky", which never failed to make Max laugh. "I _could_ say a cheesy line right now, but I think you deserve better than that," He said, shuffling back under the blankets and laying down. "But the view was pretty cool." "Aw, really? Darn, that cheesy line could've been a hook, line, and sinker." She replied back, returning to laying down as well. "You think a cheesy line is the best I've got? I have pickup lines that I've thought of months ago that I haven't even used on you, yet. Don't underestimate my flirtatious skills, Caulfield." He said, turning his head towards her and grinning. "My bad, my bad, 'Prescott.' I'll remember that, too. You better say some good ones or I will know that you were lying." She giggled in return.

"Don't you rewind and use them on me before I use them on you, either. I'll know, and I'll be super sad." He said with a pout, pretending to wipe fake tears from his eyes. "Oh, I wouldn't dare." She hummed, gently wrapping her arms around the others neck and resting her face in the crook of it. There was a moment of silence that followed afterwards, nothing but the steady breathing from the both of them. After this moment had passed, Nathan lifted Max's face from his neck and planted quick kiss on her freckled nose. Before she could even react or respond, he pulled her close to him, holding on to her like it was the last time that he was ever going to see her. Max knew what was about to happen, and laced their hands together quickly. Nathan began to shudder, his entire body shaking and twitching. His grip on Max's hands tightened, and then came the sobs. They were so sad to hear, filled to the brim with regret and remorse. "I'm sorry," He sobbed out, but Max shook her head. "It's okay, shh." She said calmly, but the waves of depression were taking him away. He repeated his apology, over and over again, his voice rising in tone each time. After a minute or two, he was screaming it, screaming about how sorry he was until the words dripped away and he gave one wordless, final yell. Max held onto him tightly, mumbling and whispering "I know"'s and "You don't need to be sorry"'s. She held onto him with such love and care that Nathan, even in this state, couldn't help but to smile. Her love is what brought him back to himself.

"I'm—" He began, but then stopped himself, rearranging his words. "I'm— I'm glad that you're here." He said quietly, and Max let go of his hands, cupping his face instead. "And I always will be. It's, uh, four in the morning. I love you and all but we _do_ have to get up in three hours for school. You're okay though, right? Because if you're not—" Nathan shushed her by this time carefully kissing her lips. "I'm fine. Don't worry about me. We should go back to sleep, though." He agreed, wrapping his arms around her waist again as they resumed that big spoon/little spoon position that Nathan had awoken in.

"I love you, Max."

"Me too."

"You love yourself?" A chuckle resonated in his throat.

"You know what I meant."

"What if I don't?"

"I love you too, Nathan."

"Good. I don't know what I'd do with myself if you didn't."


End file.
